Home
by trinity4
Summary: Home is where the heart is. Kinda fluffy.


Disclaimer: I don't owe anything of Van Helsing.

Author's note: You may notice some mistakes. I don't particularly have a beta because well, I write very infrequently, probably 90 of my stories are never finished and it always seemed like a waste of someone else's time to ask them to correct a story that isn't going to be completed.

Summary: It's sort of fluff I suppose. Rather fluffy in any case. There used to be more of it, it's lost in some notebook that I havn't seen since I moved so I don't know I might update it with another chapter or something later. Or not, it works on it's own too I think. Anyway. Onwards…

As Van Helsing walked down the familiar streets of Rome leading back to Vatican City he tried to clear his mind of the horrors of his last mission. Harpies he had decided were now number two on his 'Least favourite demonic creatures to fight' list, right after vampires and werewolves.

The latter were doubly painful for both their difficulty to kill and the strange sympathy he felt for them after his experience in Transylvania . There was always a painful twist of pity, and worse, empathy when he had killed the loathsome creature only to have it turn back into the person, perhaps an innocent one, that it had been before it had been cursed.

He also felt guilt for being the only person to survive. The only one to be cured. Why did he deserve it when so many others had no other choices but to succumb to evil and find death at his hands.

But he turned such thoughts from his mind as he approached the Holy city. He liked to keep his 'work' separate from his 'home' even though it could be argued that for him they were each just a different side of the same coin, he found a peace and comfort at the monastery that he didn't want to taint with the blood, violence and horror of his life outside.

A large part of the comfort and peace that he felt upon returning to the only home he had ever known was the fact that it also contained the only friend he could be said to have.

Upon returning, and after confessing and the obligatory meeting with Jinette he always made his way down to the cacophony of noise, smells and the sheer deadly weaponry of the labs. Where he would undoubtedly find the friar working on some mysterious project which he would be more than happy to explain in detail to the demon hunter after he had chastised him about damaging some piece of weaponry or laughing at him for getting bitten on the arse by a hellhound.

And later in the privacy of Van Helsing's room, he'd listen, as Van Helsing confessed again, this time about the misgivings he had at killing creatures that had once been human, his fear of the wolf he could still feel inside of him and his doubt if he was truly fulfilling the will of God.

And even though Carl listened to his tales of horror and constructed weapons that could incinerate a herd of wildebeest, he remained strangely untouched, untainted, innocent. Like the monastery itself he was separate from the evil of the outside world.

As he finished this thought he passed through the big doors of the monastery and made his way to confessional

………………………………...

After another delightful session with Jinette Van Helsing found himself walking down one of the many winding staircases down to the labs a few other research monks passed him on the way down and greeting him warmly confirming that Carl was in fact where he'd predicted him to be.

As he stepped through the arch way and into the laboratory he began sweeping the room for the blond head when he felt the moments unease that usually signalled danger. So he was ready when he saw a figure out of the corner of his vision rushing towards him and so with battle honed reflexes, he grabbed the attacking figure and was in the middle of throwing the surprisingly light figure over his head when he recognised the startled features of his best friend and confidant. He recovered from his shock quickly enough to prevent himself from continuing the move that would have smashed the friar headfirst into the stone wall behind him but the momentum he had built up was not so easily stopped and he ended up a few feet away on the floor under a pile of roughly woven robes and a gasping friar.

This turned out to be just as well as something hit the wall he'd been standing in front of with a wet slap an almost instantly exploded.

After the sound and light faded away all that could be heard in the room was the panting of the friar as he lay prone on the demon hunter. Van Helsing could feel the staccato of the friar's heart against his chest and so took a few deep calming breaths before he asked the question.

"What the HELL was that Carl?" he said through gritted teeth.

Carl lifted his head off Van Helsing's chest and looked at him with bewildered blue eyes before Van Helsing's glare seemed to snap him out of it.

"That" he said, pushing himself up with his hands and visibly working on getting his breathing under control "was a new mixture I've been developing.……um, welcome home?"

………………………………...

They sat shoulder to shoulder on Van helping's narrow bed. After once more confessing his doubts and fears to Carl's sympathetic ear Van helsing felt more at peace and leant back against the wall, he was soon joined by Carl, who now was only wearing his cotton undershirt and stockings.

The friar a pleasantly warm and familiar scent, one part incense, two parts the chemicals and other materials he worked with in the lab and one part the particular soap that the monks made here in the monastery.

It was perhaps not a scent that many a lady would buy from a store in an expensive crystal decanter but importantly to Van helsing it was not the scent of blood, sweat and wet horse that his missions seemed to be permeated with and it calmed him.

"Well at least you found a use for spring launched holy rope, your good for that at least" Carl said, leaning his head on the hunter's shoulder. Van helsing turned to look down at his friend, ending up with his nose in the friar's hair, he snorted and shook his head as it tickled his nose.

"How did you make the rope holy anyway?" he asked "was it weaved by mute nuns from convents in the French countryside?

"Oh we just had brother Michael bless it and soaked it in holy water" was the friar's muffled reply as he leaned more heavily against the hunter. There was silence for awhile then.

"m'glad your back safely again Gabriel"

"mm me too" he replied and remembered to thank the Lord for it.

He then jostled the now limp weight of the sleeping friar against his chest, and wrapping his arms around him he eased them both down onto the bed and pulled the blanket back over them. Carl grunted and Van helsing wrapped his arms more firmly around his chest and pressed his body behind the warm man and pressing his face into his soft Carl scented hair, thought how glad he was to be home and then went to sleep.


End file.
